


Merlin's Miss-ing Years

by tinyrose65



Series: Miss Merlin [5]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Genderbend, Genderswap, Post-Season/Series 04, au!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-09 04:36:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5525627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinyrose65/pseuds/tinyrose65
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or How Merlin, Gwaine, and Arthur Get Caught On The Wrong End Of A Spell and Everybody Else Just Has to Make Do With It Until Somebody Figures Out A Solution.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Which Merlin and Gwaine Find Arthur Doing Something Strange

The trip to the little village on the outskirts of the kingdom had been long, but was very much worth it, in Merlin’s not-so-humble opinion. Gwaine’s mother had greeted them with open arms and his little brother— not so little anymore— had been filled with awe at the sight of the knight. 

It had been her idea to take the boon in good weather and use it to take a trip to see Gwaine’s family, who he hadn’t seen in years. Gwaine had grumbled and complained, no doubt thinking that they wouldn’t want to see him after so many years apart, but if Gwaine was stubborn, Merlin was worse, and soon the two of them had packed up their bags and begun the long trek to Lot’s kingdom. Gwaine made sure not to wear the crest of Camelot. They didn’t want a war, after all.

The only person who wasn’t happy to see Gwaine was his older sister, who, upon seeing the brother who had “abandoned them for his drink and his whores” (her words) had come at him with a frying pan. Gwaine, no stranger to angry women, had managed to avoid her, and then took to placating her best he could. Meanwhile Merlin, not wanting to be around, went with Gwaine’s mother and her youngest son to the kitchens to prepare some food. When they came out, Gwaine and his sister seemed to have come to some sort of understanding, although they were still a bit icy towards each other for the rest of the visit.

If she had to guess, Merlin would say that her feelings were helped by the fact that Gwaine had been sending them money since he had left them, with it taking on a more steady stream since he had become a knight. Although not wealthy by any means, the family now had enough to live comfortably and to even help support some of the poorer families of the area. 

Merlin made sure to enjoy herself. She had been slightly nervous about meeting Gwaine’s mother— for all that he hadn’t seen them in years— but they took to each other like a house on fire, and Merlin was pleased to learn about all of the embarrassing childhood stories of Gwaine.

Gwaine’s spent a good portion of his time teaching his younger brother the basics of sword fighting, which he had not the opportunity to learn before (although as it turns out, he was quite skilled with throwing knives after bartering an old set off of some merchants passing through). He took to it pretty well, and by the time they had left, he had been walking around with stars in his eyes, dreaming of Knights of the Round Table and fighting beside his brother. Although Gwaine hadn’t said, Merlin knew that he quite liked the idea, too.

They departed in the early morning, the fog still rolling over the hills, unburnt by the sun. Goodbyes were filled with tears from all sides. Even Gwaine got misty eyed, despite his typical bravado and bluster. He was silent for the first few hours of their trek, no doubt overwhelmed by having seen his family for the first time, and Merlin let him be. 

Eventually, he broke the silence.

“Thank you, Merlin,” he said.

Merlin raised an eyebrow, surprised, and glanced over at him from her horse, which was walking sedately by his. “Thanks? For what?”

“For making me do this,” Gwaine explained. Turning sheepish, he added, “You were right. It was good for me.”

“I’m always right,” Merlin said haughtily.

Gwaine laughed. “I suppose I should’ve learned learned as much by now.”

“I liked meeting your family,” Merlin continued, once they’d stopped laughing. “Your little brother, especially, was very sweet.”

“He’s a much bigger lad than the last time I saw him,” Gwaine mused, slipping into nostalgia. 

“Time flies,” Merlin shrugged. “And kids grow quickly, or so I’m told.”

“Is that something you’ve thought about at all?” he asked. “Children, I mean. Having them, and all.”

Merlin let out a squeak. “Children? _Our_ children?”

“Aye,” Gwaine confirmed.

Merlin gaped at him like a fish for a moment before mustering up the self control to close her mouth. She considered it, thinking over her words carefully, and Gwaine let her, knowing that it was a difficult question. He had been thinking about these sorts of things for a while (since before their adventure to Hogwarts, to be honest), but she clearly hadn’t been. He wasn’t insulted by that. He’d known since meeting her that Merlin’s mind ran in different circles than most women. In fact, it was one of the things he loved most about her.

“No, honestly,” Merlin finally admitted. He wasn’t terribly surprised by this answer. “I hadn’t really considered it. I mean, before the repeal on the ban on magic, I knew I could never have children. How could I pass my gifts on and force them to live a life of hiding? I had lived that life for far too long to ever wish it on somebody else, let alone my own child.”

“And now?” Gwaine promoted eagerly.

Merlin shrugged. “And now… things are different, I suppose. It’s still not completely safe for magic users— prejudice still exists and all— but when will it be? Not to mention I have you, now, and that’s something I had never considered before.”

“Me?” Gwaine asked blankly, not quite sure he understood her. When had she ever thought that she wouldn’t have him? She’d had him from the moment she’d walked into that tavern, eyes bright and grinning like a loon.

Merlin turned pink. “Having somebody. Like you. Being in love. Not to say that there haven’t been others. There was Frey, and Will certainly wished our relationship was _that way_ even if I didn’t. But after coming to Camelot, my whole life was Arthur and our destinies. There wasn’t much time for anything else.”

“So you’d consider it? Having children one day?” Gwaine prodded. The answer meant more to him than he’d care to admit. Merlin glanced over at him, her expression indecipherable, and Gwaine felt his heart leap into his throat as he waited for her response.

“Having children?” Merlin said softly. “No.”

“Oh.” Gwaine’s heart dropped from his throat to his stomach.

“Having _your_ children? I think I’d like that. One day.”

Gwaine couldn’t stop the grin that split across his face. He positively beamed at her, and Merlin seemed to be uncomfortable with the level of adoration in his gaze. She often was, he had noticed a long time ago, like she didn’t believe she was worth it. He’d spend the rest of his life proving her wrong. He swore it.

They passed the rest of their ride in easy conversation, apparently neither one of them wishing to talk about that particular subject anymore, Merlin out of uncomfortableness and Gwaine out of respect for her (he didn’t want to startle her away after all— _children,_ Merlin one day wanted his _children_ ). 

That night, however, Gwaine had a difficult time falling asleep. He lay in his roll, Merlin curled up tightly next to him, watching the stars above. There was no need for a tent, not in this weather, with the spring solstice tomorrow, so he took a deep breath of the fresh air, allowing it to hopefully help clear his mind.

It didn’t.

Thoughts were rushing through his head at a rapid pace, and like almost always, they all traced back to the young sorceress sleeping soundly next to him. Specifically, about what she had told him earlier. 

Before Merlin, Gwaine would never have considered the idea of starting a family. He liked his freedom too much— his drink, his women, his gambling. It seemed baffling to him that a man would give that up to be tied to one woman for the rest of their life, the two of them dealing with little kids underfoot and always getting into things. He had laughed at them then, swearing off love and marriage and all those other things he found silly.

Now, though.

Well.

Gwaine couldn’t imagine a day without Merlin. Not anymore. He felt himself constantly being pulled towards her— she was like sunlight, everything good and warm and wonderful, and he gravitated towards that. It was like there was a string tied beneath his breastbone, where his heart was, and the other end was tied to hers, keeping them connected.

He liked the idea of starting a family with her. He had acknowledged that a long time ago. Lately, seeing Arthur and Gwen prepare for the arrival of their child, though, had spurred those feelings into overdrive. So much so that he had found himself at the markets one day, looking at rings, eventually settling on a delicate ring comprised of a band of silver leaves surrounded by two thin strands of gold, knowing that Merlin wouldn’t want anything flashy or over the top.

Thinking about it, he reached into his pocket (careful not to jostle Merlin awake) and fiddled with the small item in his pocket. He’d taken to carrying the ring around everywhere, partially because Merlin was nosy and lord knows she’d find it if he hid it anywhere not on his person, but also because he was overly paranoid of the perfect moment passing him by. 

So far it hadn’t, for which he was grateful. He had already sent a letter to Merlin’s mother asking permission (which had been enthusiastically granted), but had yet to ask Gaius. The old man, with his threats of poison and slow, lingering deaths, still frightened him more than he cared to admit.

With a sigh, he pulled his hand out of his pocket and wrapped his arm more firmly around Merlin. They had time. Plenty of it. Camelot was at peace, spring was here. Perhaps he could take Merlin on another picnic…

Thoughts of Merlin laying in the grass, sunlight in her hair, made Gwaine smile and lulled him to sleep until late the next day, when he woke up to Merlin kissing him gently.

_Not a bad way to start the day,_ Gwaine mused, pulling Merlin closer and flipping them over, pining her against his bedroll.

“Gwaine,” she mumbled against his lips. “We need to leave if we want to reach Camelot by lunch.”

“Ever the practical one,” he sighed, pulling away and standing up. He offered her his hand. She took it, stood, and brushed her clothes down, clearing it of some of the leaves and grass that Gwaine’s actions had put there. Together they went about gathering their supplies and putting everything away, and soon they were off once again.

As Merlin had predicted, they reached the outskirts of Camelot by lunch. Gwaine, ever cognizant of the ring in his pocket, was about to suggest they take a break for an impromptu meal by their lake, when some noise in the underbrush startled them both.

Gwaine hopped off of his horse and pulled out his sword, prepared to defend them both against bandits if need be (although, if he were being honest, between the both of them, Merlin could probably handle herself better). Instead of bandits, the last person either of them expected emerged from the bushes.

Arthur.  
Dressed in a simple tunic and breeches, his hair was a disaster, sticking up all over the place, his face and arms were smeared with dirt, and in his hands he held a bundle of crumpled flowers; it was definitely Arthur, no matter how _un-_ Arthur-ish he actually looked. 

“Arthur?” Merlin asked, climbing off of her horse. She sounded positively gleeful at the state of them.

Arthur’s face was red with embarrassment at being caught doing, well, whatever it was he was doing. He cleared his throat.

“Merlin. Gwaine,” he said tersely. “I didn’t expect you two back until tomorrow.”

“We made good time,” Gwaine said, by way of explanation. He hesitated for a brief moment, wondering about what wisdom there was in questioning the king when he clearly wasn’t in the mood to be bothered. Merlin didn’t have such qualms, though.

“What are you _doing?_ ” She demanded. She’d come to stand beside Gwaine now and was looking at their king with as confused an expression as he was.

“I’m the king of Camelot,” Arthur defended. “I don’t have to explain myself-“

“Arthur.”

Arthur huffed. “Gwen hasn’t been feeling too well these past few mornings. I thought some flowers would cheer her up.”

“And you picked them yourself instead of ordering somebody else to?” Merlin clarified. She clapped her hands in unadulterated delight. “That’s so sweet!”

“Shut up, Merlin.”

Merlin ignored him and instead took to eyeing the bundle he had in his hands, eyes narrowing and hands going to her hips. “You could’ve picked better flowers, though. Most of those are herbs— some of which I recognize from my magic book, although I don’t remember what they’re for. And… what happened to your face? Why is it so red?”

Gwaine was surprised to discover that the flush he had attributed to embarrassment wasn’t from embarrassment at all. In fact, now that they had all moved a bit closer to each other during their conversation, he could see that it had the mottled hue of some sort of rash. Judging by the that and the state of the king’s clothes, the king must’ve fallen into a patch of poison ivy. Gwaine couldn’t help it. He began to laugh. Merlin joined him, giggling.

“Shut up,” Arthur whined again. Merlin took pity on him.

“Here,” she said, walking over to him and placing her hands on his face. “I can heal you-“

Arthur jerked away, surprised by the contact and looking a bit nervous. Although Gwaine knew that Arthur had come to terms with Merlin’s magic, he was still a bit apprehensive about having it used so directly on him. Years of prejudice and fear instilled in him by his father couldn’t be overcome overnight, not even by somebody he trusted as much as Merlin. Merlin never begrudged him the fact, but was continually doing her best to try and use magic in little ways around him to get him more used to it.

“There’s no need, Merlin,” Arthur protested waking her hands away with the flowers he still held clenched in his fist. Merlin gritted her teeth.

“You’re uncomfortable for nothing,” she protested, trying to reach around his flapping arms for the rash on his face. She managed to grab the flowers (now looking more than a bit worse for wear) and pulled them from his hand. “It’ll just take a moment—”

“Merlin, no!”

“Arthur, _yes!_ ”

Gwaine was about to step in and stop them both (they were acting like idiots, not that he wasn’t enjoying the show), when there was a flash of bright light from Merlin and the heady scent of herbs.

That was the las thing any of them would remember for a long while.

It was around this same time, back at the castle, that Leon was getting frustrated. He had been wandering the castle halls looking for Arthur for over an hour now and nobody, not even Gwen, had seen him since the night before. 

“Have you seen the king?” Leon asked Tristan, who happened to be passing by, no doubt on his way to the council meeting that _Arthur needed to be at, dammit._ Tristan shook his head and kept walking, not even bothering to stop. He was already late and so was Arthur.

Leon huffed, frustrated, and headed out to the armory to find a few knights. A guard had mentioned he’d seen the king heading out to the woods early this morning. Although Leon had no clue why Arthur would be going to the woods _alone (double dammit),_ it was the best lead he had. 

Having found Elyan and Percival and catching them up to speed, the three of them road out to towards the forest. Whatever Arthur was doing, he clearly hadn’t been planning on stealth. His tracks were easy to follow and eventually lead them to a small clearing. There, they met up with two other tracks (and horse tracks, although there were no horses to be seen— the hoof steps looked as though they had wandered off in the direction of the city, so no doubt the knights had just missed them), and then there was a big mess of confusion and it was impossible to make out what went where.

“Split up,” Leon instructed. Elyan and Percival each got off their horses and walked in separate directions, swords drawn and at the ready. Leon was about to head in a third direction when his attention was caught by the sound of movement. 

Somebody was struggling through the bushes. 

Leon held his hand tight on his sword, but didn’t withdraw the blade just yet. “Who goes there?”

More rustling. No response.

“I said,” he repeated, “Who goes there? Show yourself!”

And show himself he did: a little boy, no older than eleven, stepped out. Blond haired and blue eyed, he was wearing a white tunic that was clearly _much_ too big for him— in fact, it was almost a dress. He was wearing breeches, as far as Leon could see, but they were also much too big, and he was holding them up with one hand, a belt gripped tightly in the other. Leon took his hand off his sword’s hilt.

“Hello,” he said gently. The boy, who had been stumbling through the grass as his feet tangled up in his breeches, looked up in surprise. He had been too focused on watching where he was going. “Are you lost? Where are you parents?”

“My parents are dead,” the boy said in that straightforward manner children often have. This put Leon at a loss for words, so he stuttered uselessly for a moment. 

In the interim, Percival called out, “I’ve found something!”

Turns out he meant _someone._  The large knight returned to the clearing pulling forward two other children wearing overly large clothes (wearing wasn’t really the word to be honest), one a small girl with black hair, and the other a taller boy with playful brown eyes. 

Elyan, who had hastened back at the sound of Percival’s yell, turned to the blond boy and gently asked, “What’s your name, child?”

Leon wasn’t surprised when the little boy said, “Arthur.” 

Looking around the clearing at the three children and his two, dumbfounded colleagues (no doubt coming to the same realization he had), Leon realized that they were in a _world_ of trouble. 

_Triple damnit._


	2. In Which the Knights and the Queen Must Learn to Deal with Children

“I don’t understand how this could’ve happened,” Leon exclaimed to Gaius. The old physician looked up at him from the book he had been studying and merely shrugged. Between the two of them, he was clearly the one handling this entire situation best.

They were in the physician’s chambers now, with Gaius looking over some old spell books. Leon, Elyan, and Percival had taken the young Merlin, Arthur, and Gwaine there after discovering them in the forest. Looking back, wrangling a wiggly Merlin onto his horse had been one of the trickier things he’d done in his life. 

Now, Percival was keeping the children occupied in Merlin’s old room while he and the physician talked. Elyan had gone to inform Gwen of what had happened, a task that Leon did not envy him for. Their usually mild-tempered queen had been a bit unpredictable lately as her pregnancy came to its inevitable end. 

Leon continued on rambling, not deterred by the physician’s annoyed look. “Obviously this is very powerful magic—”

“Obviously,” Gaius agreed, still flipping through his book, searching for something (what exactly, Leon couldn’t say).

“But Merlin was there! Surely she could’ve stopped the threat before something happened!”

Gaius glared at Leon, ready to defend the girl he thought of as a daughter. “For all her powers, Merlin isn’t infallible. You’d best take care to remember that.”

Blood rushed to Leon’s cheeks as he was properly chastised. “Of course. Absolutely right. My apologies.”

Gaius went back to his book, running his finger over the text as he skimmed the page he was on. Leon waited anxiously, biting his tongue. This entire situation had left him feeling a bit more on edge than he usually did during a crisis, but an attack on Camelot was one thing. Having a a king, a knight, _and_ their court sorceress down for the count did things to his blood pressure that he had rather not think about.

“It’s likely that whoever did this surprised them,” Gaius concluded. Leon nodded in his agreement. “The spell used is an old one— one of the first— although it’s typically meant to reverse ages by a few days or weeks, not years. Whoever did this is powerful indeed.”

“How do we reverse it?”

“We don’t,” Gaius said, looking over to where Percival was engaged in an arm wrestling contest with the young Gwaine. He made a show of losing poorly, much to Merlin and Arthur’s delight, as Gwaine puffed out his chest in pride. Gaius smiled a bit fondly, then turned back to Leon. “The spell isn’t meant to be permanent. It’s a changing spell— not an _actual_ de-aging spell. I doubt those exist. Merlin, Arthur, and Gwaine should revert to their normal selves on their own.”

“Yes, yes. Very good,” Leon huffed. “But _when?_ ”

“Of that, I cannot say,” Gaius admitted. “Normally the caster would be lucky for the spell to last a few hours since it takes quite a bit of magic to sustain.”

“But this sorcerer was powerful,” Leon reminded him. Gaius nodded in agreement.

“Exactly,” he confirmed. “So I can’t be sure, but perhaps by sundown? I certainly can’t imagine it taking longer than a few days for the three of them to revert to normal.”

Leon felt himself relax at this. He could keep the kingdom from running itself into the ground for a few days. 

The queen chose that moment to enter the physician’s chambers, Elyan hot on her heels. He had no doubt told her what had transpired, because she didn’t look too shocked at seeing a miniature version of her son playing with Percival. That didn’t stop her from going pale at the sight.

“Oh dear,” she muttered, catching Arthur’s attention. When he saw her, he stopped what he was doing and ran over to her, practically colliding with her. He threw his arms around her waist (or as much as he could, with her very pregnant belly in the way) and hugged himself tight to her legs.

“Guinevere!”

“Arthur,” she said weakly. She patted him gently on the head. “Why don’t you go back to Percival for a moment? I have to speak to Gaius and Leon about something.”

Arthur clearly wasn’t pleased by this, but even in his current state he knew better than to argue with his wife. He stomped over to Percival, who was now telling Merlin and Gwaine about his first time in battle. 

“Start over,” Arthur demanded, sitting down. Merlin punched him in the arm and told Percival not to listen to him.

“Some things never change, I suppose,” Gwen mused to Leon and Gaius. “That much is reassuring.”

“Indeed, milady,” Gaius agreed. “I was just telling Leon that the enchantment should wear off sometime in the next day or so.”

“That’s good to hear,” Gwen sighed in relief. She watched her husband and his friends for another few moments. All three of the children seemed to have retained a semblance of their personalities, but it was difficult to say just by watching them how much of their memories remained. Gwen put her question to Gaius, who pondered it briefly before answering.

“From my understanding, they’ll retain vague memories and ideas from their previous lives, but nothing certain: more general feelings than rock-solid knowledge, in a sense.”

Arthur chose that moment to become disinterested in whatever it was that Percival had been doing to occupy them. He walked over to where Gwen, Gaius, and Leon were standing and tugged hard on Gwen’s skirts to get her attention.

“Guinevere? I’m hungry.”

Gwen did her best to hide her surprise. “Oh? Alright, then. I suppose you and I can head down to the kitchens to find something to eat.”

Percival also walked over, holding Merlin’s and Gwaine’s hands in each of his. He explained, “I promised I’d show Gwaine the training field.”

“I want to stay with Gaius,” Merlin announced, pulling herself free of Percival and headed towards her mentor. Gaius shot a panicked look at Leon and Gwen, neither of whom were particularly concerned about him. Leon muttered something about informing the rest of the council then dashed off, eager to not get laden with any of the children. Gwen took Arthur’s hand and lead him out of the room, mentioning to him that they were going to stop by the tailor to have him change into something that fit better. Gaius called out to have something sent to his chambers for Merlin, if she could. Meanwhile, Gwaine reached out and hugged Merlin tightly.

“I don’t want to leave you, Merlin,” he complained.

“Get off,” Merlin huffed, shoving him away. He pouted at her, but she remained determined. She walked over to where Gaius had been grinding a poultice with a mortar and pestle and began to do the work for him. She had to get a step-stool to reach the table, but she was doing it nonetheless. Gwaine meanwhile gestured to Gaius to lean down close to him. Gaius did so, but was unprepared for what Gwaine had to say.

“I’m going to marry her one day,” the little boy informed him.

Gaius jolted back in surprise. He glanced over to see if Merlin had heard him, but she was too engrossed in her work. The healer leaned back in close to Gwaine and lowered his voice conspiratorially. “Is that so?”

“Mhm,” Gwaine nodded. “I even have the ring.”

Gaius’s jaw dropped at this and Percival, who had been standing close by the entire time, let out a snicker, unsurprised. He held out his hand for Gwaine, who took it, albeit with a reluctant look at Merlin.

“Let’s go find Arthur and Gwen at the tailor’s,” Percival suggested as the two of them walked out of the chambers.

With a slightly relieved sigh (he never could stand it when his physician’s chambers got overcrowded), Gaius turned back to his apprentice only to notice that she had somehow managed to spill the poultice all over the table. The poultice he had spent all day making. This is why he didn’t spend much time around children— he was fine healing them, working with them in small doses, but too much and it left him ready to pull his hair out (what little was left of it).

“Leave that be,” he chided, hastening over to her and pushing her gently away from the table. He cleaned the mess up best he could and then turned to look at her, he was startled to see her eyes growing gold. Surrounding them, all of the vials containing his various potions were floating around the two of them. 

“Gah!” Gaius exclaimed, reaching out to grab one, then another, then another. Thankfully, in no time at all he had gathered them into his arms and was laying them down on the table. Once again, he turned to Merlin, who was biting her lip, eyes watering, but back to their normal blue color.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to— I got upset when you were mad at me and—”

“I wasn’t mad at you, Merlin,” he said, and that was the truth. He had been mildly annoyed, but not much more than that. “And I’m not mad at you now. Accidental magic happens to the best of us.”

_Especially you,_ he thought, recalling some of Hunith’s letters to him describing some of the more interesting situations Merlin’s magic had gotten her into at a young age. He thought she had been exaggerating a bit, but— no. He shouldn’t have been surprised: Merlin’s magic had always been strongly tied to her emotions, and it made sense that her emotions would be more sensitive than normal.

A moment’s consideration lead him to say, “Why don’t we practice some of your magic, hm?”

He had expected the prospect to excite her— as an adult, she loved practicing even simple spells with her magic. He did _not_ expect for Merlin to burst into tears at the mere mention of it. 

“Sh,” he murmured, kneeling down and patting her back a tad awkwardly. “There, there. Don’t cry.”

“I— don’t— I don’t want to be burnt at the stake,” Merlin whimpered, and Gaius’s heart broke. Acting on a more natural impulse than he would’ve guessed he even possessed, Gaius pulled Merlin towards him in a tight hug. She went willingly and hugged him back just as fiercely, and the two of them stayed in that position until her sobs subsided.

“My dear girl,” Gaius said affectionately, pulling back so he could look her in the eyes. “Don’t you remember? Magic is no longer banned. It’s perfectly safe for you to practice using your gifts.”

Merlin sniffled. “Really?”

“Really,” Gaius promised, and he was rewarded with the sight of her blinding smile. Chucking to himself, he stood (ignoring the protests from his old joints) and ushered her over to his bookshelf. Since the ban on magic had been repealed, he had taken to gathering as many texts about the subject as he could get his hands on. He instructed Merlin to “pick one.”

While she did so, he wondered, “ _Where are Gwen and Leon with those clothes?_ ”

As it happens, Gwen had just sent for a servant to bring Gaius a set of tunic and breeches for Merlin. She and Leon had had their hands full as it was with young Arthur and Gwaine, both of whom seemingly had enough energy to outrun a horse. Dressed in his new clothes, Gwaine cheerfully followed Percival and Leon out to the training fields. Meanwhile, Gwen led Arthur back to their chambers. There was work that needed doing, and her hope was that she could distract Arthur with some books while she did it.

In their chambers, Arthur made a dash for their bed and all but leapt onto it, immediately undoing all the hard work of whatever servant had made the bed that morning. 

_Oh dear,_ Gwen flinched, as Arthur took to hopping up and down on the bed. Growing up, she had heard stories from her father of how difficult the young prince had been as a child. His father might’ve been hard on him in some ways, but Arthur was also all the king had left of his wife, and that created a tendency in him to spoil his son. Arthur certainly had never had anybody scolding him.

_Well that’s about to change,_ she concluded. 

Out loud, she chided, “Arthur. Stop that at once.”

Whether it was her tone or simply the shock of having somebody telling him what to do, Gwen couldn’t say, but he stopped nonetheless and stared at her, agape. 

“Why don’t we settle down with a good book, hm?” Gwen suggested gently. 

Arthur didn’t object right away to this, a good sign. Leaving him for just a moment, Gwen walked into the adjoining chambers. What had once been her spare room had now been converted into a royal nursery, complete with a basinet, toys, and ( _aha!_ ) children’s books. Picking one up that looked interesting, Gwen returned to her chambers and nearly dropped her book in shock at the sight that greeted her: their wardrobe had been opened wide, and clothes were now strewn all about the room. 

Arthur was still rooting around in the wardrobe, pulling clothes out, examining them, and tossing them aside. A pile of ignored dresses and tunics had begun to form behind him.

“ _Arthur!_ ” she snapped, losing her patience (pregnancy had that effect, she had noticed).

Arthur stopped immediately and turned to face her. At least he had the good sense to look properly chagrined Gwen noted as she closed her eyes, sighed, and pinched the bridge of her nose. 

Two arms around her very pregnant stomach made her open her eyes. Arthur was once again hugging her. His face, from what she could see of it since it was mostly buried into her dress, was apologetic, and his eyes were filled with tears.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

Gwen dropped the book and knelt down so she could hug him properly. Taking him into her arms, she soothed him best she could. When he had stopped crying and instead had started sniffling, she had an idea to distract him.

“Why don’t we go see Gwaine and the others down at the training field, hm?”

Gwaine had been excitedly chattering about knights and swords and other weapons from the moment Percival had suggested the training grounds. While he clearly didn’t remember much about his life before being de-aged, he had retained his enthusiasm for fighting. Percival just considered himself lucky that he so far hadn’t shown any of the same feelings towards drinking, because wouldn’t _that_ be a pain?

It was a sunny day, warm, but with a cool breeze. In other words, the perfect day for training. Elyan, Percival, and the aforementioned child had all gathered in the armory to pick up some weapons. Elyan had of course planned to give Gwaine a _blunt_ practice sword, but it seemed Gwaine had other ideas. He rushed straight towards his usual sword (which Elyan had found in the woods after the children were discovered). There was, however, a slight problem: as a child, Gwaine was having difficulty lifting it. He couldn’t even it get it to budge.

Percival offered Gwaine the practice sword. Gwaine humphed in annoyance, but ultimately let go of his sword in favor of the once Percival held. He had slightly better luck with this one and was able to lift it just slightly. “You’ll get there, mate,” Percival encouraged, as Gwaine took to lugging the sword behind him towards the practice field, no less determined than he had been earlier. Percival made sure to level a stern look at the outside knights who would dare laugh at the little boy— although usually gentle, as big as he was, Percival could be quite intimidating when he wanted.

They met Leon out at the training field. The responsible knight took one look at the overly large sword in Gwaine’s hands and immediately frowned.

“Perhaps it’d be best to start with something a bit smaller,” he suggested. “How about throwing knives?”

“No, We’ll be using swords.” Gwaine said firmly. He lifted the sword several inches on the ground and assumed his best fighting stance. “Fight me!”

It was adorable. 

“I wanna fight!” came a voice from a few yards away. The three (four?) knights turned to see Gwen leading an eager looking young Arthur towards them. Gwaine practically beamed at Arthur’s proclamation. 

“I’ll go get you a sword!” he announced, dashing off. Elyan shot his wife an exasperated look as he chased after him. 

Meanwhile, Arthur had let go of Gwen’s hand and walked closer to the main field, near knights practicing. Eyes narrowed, hands on his hips, he was studying their form quite intently. If the knights were bothered by being so scrutinized by a young boy, they didn’t show it. The scene made Leon smile slightly, remembering a time when Arthur, as a _true_ child, would observe his men with a similar expression on his face.

Gwen said, “Hopefully this will tire them out. Arthur has been a handful.”

“So has Gwaine,” Leon admitted. “At least they don’t have magic. Poor Gaius must be ready to collapse.”

Gwen was saved from having to respond by Elyan, who was running back towards them, face panicked.

“He’s gone,” Elyan gasped out between breaths when he reached them, resting his hands on his knees. “Gwaine. I lost him.”

Gwen cursed, surprising Leon and Percival, although Elyan didn’t seem bothered. “Where would he go?”

“He’s with Merlin,” offered Arthur, who had finally stopped watching the knights work and had tuned into the conversation. All eyes turned to him in surprise, and he sighed, exasperated in the way that only a child could be. “Gwaine. He’s with Merlin.”

“How do you know that?” Percival asked. Then, after a moment, because this boy was still his king, he added respectfully, “Sire.”

“Because he’s _always_ with Merlin,” Arthur said matter-of-factly. Without as much as a by-your-leave, he began walking off the training field, in the direction of the Court Physician’s chambers. The others just shrugged at each other and followed, although Gwen still looked very worried at the prospect of a lost Gwaine, not totally comforted by the child king’s certainty. The other were just better at hiding their nervousness— Leon was already planning to send guards out to search the castle and surrounding grounds for Gwaine.

There was no need, however, because Arthur was right: Gwaine _was_ with Merlin. They found him (and her, and Gaius) in the physician’s chambers, watching as the sorceress practiced enchanting the flames of a candle to turn different colors: green, then blue, then white. Even black, which was very strange to see.

The three knights and their queen watched the spectacle with satisfied smiles.

“Perhaps this will keep them busy long enough or us to get some work done,” Leon said.

“Guinevere,” Arthur announced, “I’m bored. Can we go look at the horses?”

Leon sighed.

“Or not.”


	3. In Which Things Return to Normal, But Only For A Minute

The first thing Merlin realized when she woke up was that she had a pounding headache. Her mouth was fuzzy and dry, and she didn’t have to even bother reaching up and feeling it to know that her hair looked like a bird’s nest. Her clothes felt strangely constricting in a way that she couldn’t quite place, and with no memory of last night, she decided the best way to figure out _what the hell is going on_ was to open her eyes.

Instead of in her chambers, huddled deep under the covers, or in Gwaine’s bed, curled up next to him, she was in her old bed in Gaius's rooms, tangled in the covers and half falling off. That was surprising. The constricting feeling she felt came from the nightclothes she was wearing, which were too small and decidedly not hers (far too ruffly for her tastes). 

Whatever had happened last night must’ve been some party, she thought dully to herself as she stood up hesitantly. Her legs shook for a moment, as though they weren’t used to carrying her weight, then stabilized. The room didn’t spin and her stomach didn’t violently expel its contents outward, so it seemed increasingly unlikely that what she was dealing with was a horrible hangover. 

Looking around, Merlin realized that she didn’t have any of her old clothes with her. These were Gaius’s chambers now, after all, and had been cleared of her things when she moved out. The only clothes she could find was a small pair of tunic and breeches, about the same size as the nightclothes she wore. After she contemplated these for a moment, a quick burst of magic had them in the proper size, so she was able to change and head downstairs, curious to see whether or not Gaius had any clue as to what had happened to her the day before.

Gaius was hard at work on something, sitting at his worktable and jotting down notes about a specimen of plant he was examining through his glasses. The sound of her descending the steps alerted him to the fact that he was there, and he looked up.

“Ah, Merlin!” He sounded surprised to see her. “You’re awake! And back to normal!”

“Back to normal?” Merlin asked, voice coming out croaky. She took a seat next to him. “What do you mean?”

Gaius’s grin faltered. “You- you don’t remember?”

“Remember what?”

“Ah. Interesting.” Gaius said. He took his glasses off, folded them, and placed them on the table. “You, Arthur, and Gwaine spent most of the day yesterday in the form of, well, a child.”

Merlin just gaped him as memories— blurry and incomplete, but memories nonetheless— began rushing back. “Oh, gods.”

“Quite,” Gaius agreed. He sounded more amused than anything else. “Don’t worry, though. The knights have been hard at work patrolling and attempting to discover just who is responsible for cursing you.”

At this, Merlin couldn’t help but blush. “Actually…”

Gaius raised his eyebrow and gave her the look only he could. It didn’t make her feel any better. In fact, it only made her feel worse (as he had no doubt intended.”

“It was my fault,” she admitted, words coming out in a rush. “I was out with Gwaine and we met Arthur, who cut his hand, and I went to magic it away, but he was holding these _herbs_ and it’s the solstice and— yeah.”

“Oh, dear.”

“I know.”

“You should probably let Leon know.”

“Do I have to?” Merlin whined. “Arthur is already going to be furious with me once he realizes what happened. I don’t want Leon to be angry, too.”

“I’m sure Leon will not be angry with you,” Gaius soothed. “And neither will Arthur. They all know that, as powerful as you are, you’ve had little formal training and are still learning.”

Merlin considered this. “You really think Arthur won’t be mad?”

“I’m sure of it.”

“MERLIN!” Arthur’s shout rang down the halls. Judging by the sound of his voice, he was no doubt back to his adult self, and not happy. Merlin shot Gaius an unimpressed look as Arthur burst through the door, hair in a disarray and holding his breeches up with one hand because he hadn’t taken the time to buckle them. He hadn’t even bothered putting on a shirt.

“Arthur— I can explain— it was an accident—”

Arthur’s eyes were wild when they focused on Merlin. “What? Explain? What are you talking about, you idiot? Guinevere’s in labor.”

“Oh.” Merlin relaxed. Then she didn’t. “Wait. What?”

“Gwen is in labor,” Arthur repeated, through gritted teeth. At least that explained his appearance. Merlin found herself turning to Gaius and looking at him helplessly. He was as calm as always.

“Don’t look at me, Merlin,” he chided. “You know very well what to do. We’ve worked together on births many times.”

“We have,” Merlin said, more to remind herself than to confirm what Gaius had said. “Right. We have.”

She turned to Arthur. “I’ll need clean linens. And warm water. And some other things from my chambers— I’ll go fetch them and meet you in Gwen’s room.”

Arthur was still rooted to the ground, clearly not ready for his baby to make an appearance. Merlin felt a twinge of sympathy for him: his mother had soon after childbirth, after all, and it had ruined his father. She walked over to him and placed her hands on his shoulders.

“Trust me, Arthur,” Merlin said. “I am going to do everything in my power to make sure that Gwen and your child make it through this. Now, though, you have to be strong for me. For _them._ ”

This snapped Arthur out of whatever stupor he was in. He nodded once, curtly, and Merlin recognized the look on his face. It was the same look he got when preparing for a large battle, where he put his mind towards whatever needed doing and got it done at all costs. 

“I’ll have a servant fetch the water and linens,” he told her, “and I’ll meet you in our chambers.”

With that, he turned on his heel and stormed out the room, giving Merlin a moment to catch her breath. She turned to Gaius. “Will you look in on Gwen while I prepare?”

“Of course,” Gaius assured. “You didn’t think you’d be doing this alone, did you?”

Merlin’s answering smile stayed on her face all the way to her chambers. She didn’t even bother opening the doors normally, instead just flinging them open with magic and all but running inside. 

She was surprised to see Gwaine there, waiting for her, munching on an apple and looking completely unaffected by their little adventure the day before. Although the rest of the castle was in a tizzy with the news of the royal baby’s impending arrive, it didn’t seem like he knew. Merlin stopped short at the sight of him, goal of getting things for Gwen momentarily forgotten.

“Why aren’t you down by the royal chambers?” Merlin asked dumbly, stopping in front of him. It was the first thing she thought of to ask— she had run into Leon on the way over, who had informed her that the other knights were waiting by the queen’s chamber doors for any news.

“For what?” was Gwaine’s response.

“Gwen’s having her baby,” Merlin informed him. With her purpose back in mind, she headed straight towards the large cabinet in the corner of the room, where she kept the majority of her supplies. Gwen’s labor would be, if they were all lucky, a straightforward affair, using Gaius’s methods as opposed to Merlin’s magic. Still, it helped to always be prepared.

The sound of Gwaine falling off of his chair startled Merlin out of her supply gathering, and she looked over her should to see him sprawled across the floor. She couldn’t stop the small smile from spreading across her face as he scrambled to his feet.

“She is?” He sounded panicked at the thought, as though the idea of labor had never crossed his mind in the full nine months that Gwen had been pregnant.

“Yes,” Merlin confirmed, gathering her supplies up in her hands. “Now, come on. We’ve got a baby to welcome into the world!”

The birth went smoothly, much to Merlin’s satisfaction. For all that she was prepared to take on any complications, she _definitely_ preferred it this way. 

As she watched Gwen (sweaty and flushed, but absolutely glowing) hold her newborn baby, Merlin felt her heart grow three sizes. For the first time in, well, _ever,_ she found herself wanting something like that for herself and Gwaine. Gods only knew that Gwaine would make an excellent father…

Breaking herself out of her thoughts, Merlin walked to the chamber door and opened it, revealing a group of nervous looking knights, none looking more nervous than the king himself. Arthur, who had clearly been pacing only moments ago, looked up at her when she emerged from the room, his eyes wide and desperate.

“Would you like to meet your son, Arthur?” Merlin asked, unable to hide the grin on her face. The other knights slapped his back and offered their congratulations as he absorbed the news. Then he was practically pushing past her (she’d forgive it this once) to go meet the newest member of his family.

“Are you alright, Merlin?” Gwaine asked, moving closer to her and taking her hand.

“I’m fine,” she said, but by the look on Gwaine’s face, she could tell it wasn’t very convincing. She let out a sigh. She was _tired._ For all that the birthing had been free of difficulties, it been a long labor, and the stress of wanting to ensure that her friend was alright had left her feeling drained.

Gaius’s voice came from the room behind her— he had walked over to them.

“I’ll take care of things here. Go get some fresh air. You deserve it, child.”

“But Gwen—“

“Will be fine for a few minutes,” Gaius assured, ushering Merlin fully out from under the doorway where she had stood. “The last thing we need is you passed out on the floor.”

Gaius turned to the other knights, who were still milling about. “As for the rest of you, why don’t one of you make yourselves useful and go get me some supplies?”

As the knights bickered over who should get to do the honors of getting something for the new prince, Gwaine pulled Merlin along by her hand (which he hadn’t let go of the entire time) down the corridor. Ultimately, they ended up on the battlements, looking down at the town below them as the breeze ruffled their hair. Merlin let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. 

“This is nice.”

“It is,” Gwaine agreed, giving her hand a gently squeeze. “You did a wonderful job today, princess.”

“I did alright,” Merlin said with a shrug. “Gwen did most of the work.”

“And now we have a new prince,” Gwaine continued. 

“Another noble worth protecting?”

“Unless he turns out to be an arrogant sod like his father,” Gwaine retorted, but Merlin knew he was teasing. The prince had captured his heart like had everybody else from the moment Gwen had announced her pregnancy.

“We’ll make sure he won’t.” Merlin was quiet for a minute. Then the peaceful smiling that had been on her face turned into a frown when Gwaine let go of her hand. She turned to see what he was doing, possibly pout at him (she wasn’t sure yet), but was stunned into silence to see him kneeling on the floor next to her, one hand reaching into his pocket.

“Gwaine?” she squeaked, once she finally found her voice. “What are you doing?”

“I’m proposing,” Gwaine told her, cool as ever. He had pulled a small pouch out of his pocket. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

Merlin didn’t have an answer to that. Gwaine chose that moment to empty out the pouch, a delicate ring falling into this hand. It was silver— to match her necklace, no doubt— and the band had been shaped to look like a small twig. At the center was a raw, uncut stone of some kind, that overall added to the natural looking style of the piece.

“Oh.”

“Merlin—” Gwaine began.

“Yes,” Merlin interrupted.

Gwaine blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Yes. I’ll marry you.”

“I haven’t even had time to ask!” Gwaine argued. “I had a whole speech about how you taught me there was more to life than aimless wandering, and gave me something to fight for— friends, a family. That your love made me a changed man—”

“Let’s just skip that bit and get to the part where you put the ring on and kiss me,” Merlin huffed, reaching forward to tug Gwaine into a standing position. He laughed as he righted himself.

“Has anybody ever told you that you are something else?”

“Arthur,” Merlin chirped. “On a daily basis.”

“I wouldn’t have you any other way,” Gwaine promised as he slipped the ring onto her finger. They were both quiet, just staring at the ring, unsure of what to say or do, but at the same time, not wanting to say or do _anything_ to ruin this moment. Gwaine seemingly got tired of the silence, because he tugged her into a kiss, swift and fierce and charged with something Merlin couldn’t name.

They separated and were quiet again, turning to look back out at Camelot. Then, speaking softly, Merlin said, “Everything is changing, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Gwaine agreed. “It is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I think that's a good place to end this, don't you? In fact, I think I'm closing off the whole Miss Merlin series at this point. Maybe one day I'll come back to it, but for now, I think I'm done. It's been an amazing ride and I am truly grateful for those of you who have been reading these stories this whole time- your support means the world to me!
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoyed :)


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